


beam

by lisettedelapin



Category: Free!
Genre: F/M, High ☆ Speed!, Post-Free! Eternal Summer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-09
Updated: 2015-12-09
Packaged: 2018-05-05 19:11:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5387114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lisettedelapin/pseuds/lisettedelapin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Her style is different to the other club members; that is how Haruka figures he's never seen her before. He doesn't find the heaviness of Makoto's movements in her, nor the wholehearted grasping of Nagisa's, or the sigh, the almost sinking <i>giving</i>, the trust of Haruka's own style.</p><p>Instead, she moves simply; her quickness comes from a certain lightness, like she skims the water rather than pushes through it. It's not an unpleasant sight.</p>
            </blockquote>





	beam

**Author's Note:**

  * For [attemptsonwords](https://archiveofourown.org/users/attemptsonwords/gifts).



> for the ever beautiful sana, who asked for future work involving a reunion. i'm so sorry for how late this is and i hope i worked your prompts in well enough! happy haruaki party <33

He sees her swim before he knows her name.

It's not that he regards Iwatobi SC as a home of sorts. After all, he knows better than to feel so entitled. It's more that Haruka is someone who commits the details of his surroundings to memory. Not everywhere, necessarily, but at the very least the places he cannot avoid. It's grounding to know the space, the shape of a room — it helps him feel like his feet aren't misplaced. It's a question of belonging, maybe — if Haruka can walk into a room with the thought of _yes, here is familiar,_ then he in turn can feel a measure of rightness in being there.

So Iwatobi SC becomes routine, and Haruka commits to the garish pink doors, and the grey-green walls, like an after thought of jade. He knows the way the windows rise from the floor to the ceiling, the frames cutting grids into the sun, just as he knows the pattern on the tiles containing the pool. Like this, Iwatobi SC becomes familiar. He comes to recognise the people as well; they flicker in and out like the breath of a light fixture.

And with all of this in mind, with a vision that Haruka keeps like static, shivering but altogether stagnant, it is impossible not to feel jarred by the sight of someone he doesn't recognise in the pool.

She's swimming backstroke, under the request of Coach Sasabe to show him how she swims each stroke. Her style is different to the other club members; that is how Haruka figures he's never seen her before. He doesn't find the heaviness of Makoto's movements in her, nor the wholehearted grasping of Nagisa's, or the sigh, the almost sinking _giving_ , the trust of Haruka's own style.

Instead, she moves simply; her quickness comes from a certain lightness, like she skims the water rather than pushes through it. It's not an unpleasant sight.

Makoto comes to stand next to him then, bottled water in his grasp.

"Ah, that's Yazaki Aki," he says. "She might be moved up from the grade below us."

Haruka wonders if Makoto tells him out of knowing he was wondering, or for the sake of general conversation. Maybe both — Makoto knows how to integrate his perceptiveness in even idle chatter.

"She's good, isn't she, Haru-chan?"

He's right, though it's the type of thing Makoto would say about anyone, believing it in some manner too.

Giving a quiet hum in response, Haruka looks away from Yazaki without turning to Makoto either.

He can still hear the bright splash of her kick.

~

Initially, he doesn't recognise her out of the water.

She stands in front of their small group before the start of training. At this stage, she is about the same height as Haruka.

She introduces herself as Yazaki Aki, without bravado but still with a voice that is self-assured. When she bows, her hair falls around her face, brunette except where the sun from the windows falls like a crown to catch an undercurrent of red. Straightening, she tucks the strands behind her ears and smiles.

With the same lightness of her stroke, Haruka thinks.

He doesn't consider her beyond that.

~

But just as with anyone else in Haruka's life, it doesn't matter whether or not he _chooses_ to consider her. Haruka commits details to memory, and Aki becomes a near constant in the places he knows.

On an overcast morning, he chances upon her looking to the depths of the Shiwagawa river.

And it is the absence of her smile that strikes him with the sense that something more is amiss. It is the absence of her smile that makes him realise he has come to know her well enough to expect her earnest joy, the way her eyes seem to honestly contemplate whatever is in front of her.

And a sigh stolen by the river breeze, a stained scarf, the insistence yet the inability to entirely give up — these too are things that Haruka learns of her.

Still, he watches her swim, not like she needs the water but like she loves the water. He watches as she secures victory in the touch of her hand to the wall; as at the sight of her teammates, she smiles warm enough for the water to seem like the stirred fabric of a blanket around her fingertips.

~

It's a bizarre thought to Haruka, how despite their knowing each other seeming so arbitrary in the course of his life, it could really be chalked up to deliberations on her part.

She had wanted to swim, had chosen the same club, had worked hard until she reached Haruka's grade.

Haruka had only followed routine, his tune of shivering static.

And with as little fanfare as when he'd first seen her, they each leave for a different high school. Yazaki Aki becomes old photographs, a memory Haruka does not find reason to turn over.

~

The second time they meet is really as chance as an encounter can get. Secretly, they will both grow to believe it was entirely inevitable.

It is spring and Haruka finds himself retracing his steps with the urgency that only comes with knowing that soon, they will only be tracks through his memories.

He crosses the Mutsuki Bridge, winds around the rim of the river banks, past the stretching poplars. He breathes in deep and that is when he knows to listen for the ocean's pulse.

Then the faded white boats, secured by hardy mooring lines. Boys learning to fish between the men who survived the storm, who used to wave their sun-browned hands at Haruka and Makoto when they were children.

He follows the coastline until the sea is no longer in sight and instead, he finds the fresh paint of Iwatobi SC.

He remembers feeling tiny in the face of this building. Somehow, he still does.

And that is when he sees her.

She's standing some way away from him, her hands dug into the pockets of a knitted cardigan as she looks at the building, just as Haruka was before he was looking at her.

She's taller, of course, but far from unrecognisable and Haruka has absolutely no idea what to do.

Is he supposed to leave quietly, tuck this image away? Is he stirring a memory that would rather rest if he calls out to her? How would he even call out in the first place?

With each new option he finds himself sucking in his breath.

But again, she brings the motion; turning to Haruka, her eyes widening to mirror his.

And like that, he exhales.

"Hi," is what he says. And he feels like an absolute fool afterwards because there's still some distance between them and there's a high chance she didn't even hear.

But she laughs sweetly, not in unkindness, and raises a hand in greeting. "Nanase-kun!" She calls, like she's just remembered the answer to a trivia question.

She moves towards him then, and when she speaks Haruka thinks her voice is light with giddy disbelief. It makes his cheeks warm — not the disbelief but the giddiness.

"What are you doing here?"

"Yazaki—" Haruka starts, before he feels his mouth go hopelessly dry.

He has to switch his gaze to the floor, his face burning the longer he stares at her without an answer.

He swallows and tries to hold still for a moment. "I wanted to pay a visit," he says. There's a sentimentality to the act that flusters him; the naturalness with which he'd known this was the place he needed to see.

Aki's voice is thoughtful, with an honesty that sounds like something to guard between the two of them. "Me too," she says, quiet though there's no one else hanging outside the building. "It's just the same, isn't it?"

He wonders why she would say that when from the outside, all fresh paint in the face of their taller stances, their more experienced eyes, it is so very different.

He wonders how she feels it too.

He finds that's another thing that hasn't seemed to change in Aki; she always had a way of cutting to the heart of a feeling, of making sense of these things.

"Do you—" he scuffs his shoe, picks his gaze from the floor to her face and tries to think whether she always left him shaken like this or if it is only now. "Do you still find swimming fun?"

There is dawning in the stutter of her breath, shape of her eyes, tug of her lips.

He thinks she remembers their old conversation.

And _oh_ , he remembers her smile.

"Shall we go inside, Nanase-kun?"

~

He thinks of her more often after that.

But he hadn't taken contact details — he's not good at that stuff anyway. Later, it strikes him that he knows nothing of her plans for the future. Their conversation had kept to the past and present, and Haruka gathers the impression that Aki was at Iwatobi SC for exactly the same reason as him, to remember.

Afterwards, Aki becomes a passing fragment of conversation with Makoto, a surprised smile.

Haruka is glad to have seen her. It feels fitting, like it is simply part of the process of bringing finality to his move.

~

But the rest of the world isn't static, even as Haruka moves through it.

This time, he knows her name as soon as he sees her swim.

It is his first swim meet since he joined university and his stomach turns with nervous energy, like the ocean rolling at the pull of the wind. He hasn't had to feel the fresh pressure of proving himself before, but suddenly he's thrown into a new place with a new team and he can hear what he'd said to Rin all too clearly in his mind.

To start caring about times — there's vulnerability in that.

He has to hiss out his breath, focus on the thought that Makoto is somewhere in the stands, that it will be okay; he just needs to feel the water like he always does.

He looks to the pool then, right in time to witness the women's 100m free race.

In lane 3, she seems to set her sight on something that is simply _beyond_. And then she dives.

When she surfaces, Haruka can't look away.

She surfaces, and then she flies.

Haruka _knows_ that lightness, he knows that stroke.

He knows the way Yazaki Aki warms once she looks up to the sight of her teammates.

~

This time he's prepared, or so he thinks.

He makes his way to her after her race, begins by murmuring her name. He doesn't flinch when she spins to see him.

"You swam well," he says.

And maybe he's not quite so prepared because his breath still catches afterwards but it's not his fault, _damn it all_ , how does she always pair recognition of him with that _smile?_

~

She leaves him with her phone number, a friendly warning to watch out for her university, and something more than pre-race jitters.

~

"When did you get Zaki-chan's number?"

Haruka stops chopping vegetables, with the bizarre sensation of having just been _caught_ when he turns to Makoto.

Makoto is looking at him, eyebrows raised, a smile that seems more knowing than it reasonably ought to considering there is nothing to know. Haruka's phone is in his hands.

"The swim meet in July when we first saw her. She gave it to me."

Makoto nods slowly. "Ah, I see," he says, his smile still in place.

 _See what?_ Haruka thinks, his lips pursed as he frowns.

"You should invite her out with us next time."

When Haruka doesn't respond, Makoto speaks again; his voice edging on teasing.

"Could it be you're trying to keep Zaki-chan to yourself?"

"Why don't you invite her then?" Haruka bites back with an irritated huff.

Makoto's smile only widens; he's got Haruka where he wants him.

"She's never offered me her number," he says, laughing softly.

~

And just like that, Aki secures herself an occasional spot beside them at their tiny ramen joint, tucked away in a backstreet round the corner from Makoto’s apartment, like an offshoot.

Either Makoto just doesn't care or he genuinely thinks Haruka doesn't notice how he makes sure it is always either Haruka or Aki sitting in the middle.

Together, Makoto and Aki manage to draw conversation from Haruka. Aki has a habit of asking him, "what do you think, Nanase-kun?" And even Haruka cannot answer every question with a noncommittal shrug.

Besisdes, even when Haruka was an aloof kid, Aki had had a way about her that made him want to try and give her the right words. Stumbling on the precipice of adulthood, that quality hasn't changed. It's the way she wonders, Haruka thinks. It makes him imagine things might be worth trying to understand.

What’s different is how he feels the tip of his ears heat up every time she says his name

~

And sometimes it's just Aki.

See, when the three of them are together, Makoto suddenly needs to go to the toilet an awful lot. Or take phone calls. Or leave to refill their jug of water, which he seems to be drinking so fast with the express intent of refilling.

Haruka is completely aware of what Makoto is trying to do.

There's only so many orthodontist appointments one can make, after all.

~

“Rin, they’re so slow about it...I don't even know if they realise but it's so—"

Haruka chooses that moment to exit the bathroom. He feels a deep sense of satisfaction as he sees Makoto scramble to hide his phone behind his back.

"Is your orthodontist's name Rin?"

Makoto blanches.

“Haru—it’s just—“

Haruka exhales in a long suffering sigh. “Makoto,” he starts. “I know what you’re trying to do.”

Makoto’s throat bobs as he gulps. His eyes dart from Haruka and for a moment he doesn’t say a word.

But then in the space of a breath, his brow smooths, his eyes returning to Haruka, wide this time. “You knew but you didn’t tell me to stop.”

Haruka’s case is an unfortunate one if he’s at the point where not just interacting with Aki, but also being talked to vaguely  _about_ Aki makes him feel embarrassingly warm.

“ _Haru—_ “

“You don’t need to say it,” Haruka says, staring at his hands as he pulls at his fingers. He knows that Makoto is observant but rarely does he explicitly ask Makoto to not lay name to his feelings.

“Okay,” Makoto breathes. “But tell me…if I said that tonight I’m not going to be able to eat with the two of you and I suggested that you go on anyway, what would you tell me?”

“ _Makoto._ ”

“I won’t do anything you don’t want me to.”

And Haruka knows that he means it; that he is giving him an option.

“I would say okay.”

Makoto’s eyes soften. “It’s almost 6 o’clock.”

Haruka nods, stomach in knots. “I hope all of your teeth fall out.”

And then he turns on his heel, grabs his keys and his wallet and moves for the front door, just as Makoto chuckles. "That'd mean more dental appointments."

He’s slipping on his shoes when he hears the whispered, “Rin, Sousuke owes you 500 yen.”

“I heard that!” He yells, before swinging the door open and shouldering it shut.

~

He sees her through the window first. She’s wearing the same cardigan she was when he ran into her at Iwatobi SC, leaning her elbow on the wood of the table, her chin resting atop her knuckle.

Haruka heaves in a breath, begrudgingly calls Rin to mind, and manages to walk inside with his shoulders pushed back.

Immediately, Aki brightens when she sees him, her hand slipping from her chin as she sits up straight. She smiles and then her eyes move to the empty space next to Haruka. At the furrowing of her brows when she looks back to him, Haruka feels sick.

“Could we try somewhere else today?” he asks. It’s been less than a minute probably and his hands are already clammy, the warmth of the decor and the steam curling through the shop are not things that bother him usually. But this is not a usual situation.

Aki seems to survey him for one millennium worthy second, before she nods without question and rises, pulling the strap of her handbag over her shoulder. “We can do that,” she says.

He walks half a step in front of her because he’s certain he does not currently look like his cool, collected self.

When they make it out, it is to see the evening enveloping the sky. They walk for a while, just onwards, and eventually he tastes the fragrant scent of white flowers riding on the deepening chill of the air. It reminds him of walking up the shrine steps at Iwatobi, passing imperfect gardens and night blooms. Now, he manages to turn to her.

“Makoto—,” he raises a hand to his hair, wondering when his good posture faltered. “He had an appointment.”

Aki’s frown evens out and Haruka can’t figure her out as she nods. “Oh,” she says, and he thinks she’s not exactly disappointed. “But you—“

He lets his hand fall, drops his gaze with it. “I’m here.” He pushes himself to look at her then.

Even for the embarrassing rush of his breath, it is worth it to see the way the light in her eyes shifts shape as she smiles.

“Thank you, Nanase-kun.”

Why would she feel she’s in a position to thank him? What is he supposed to make of that, he wonders. He wishes he could ask Makoto.

“It’s nothing,” he says. Which is the truth in regards to her thanks, but entirely a lie in the general sense.

“I’m really happy you still came.”

“O-oh—” Heat flares at the back of his neck. But he speaks calmly when he says: “There was no reason not to.”

~

That’s not the last time they go out.

It becomes something of a habit, to spot Aki outside the restaurant, and to join her in wandering past it in search of something else. This time, Aki turns to him with a sheepish smile.

“Nanase-kun, are you very hungry today?”

He’s not full but he’s not hungry either; he shakes his head.

“I realise it’s a bit of an odd request but—“ she pauses to laugh, and Haruka is frustrated to realise he’s already agreed. “Would you mind if we went grocery shopping?”

He cocks his head when he looks at her but nods nonetheless. It’s a practical thing to do and it’s with Aki; he wouldn’t complain.

And so, they wind up inspecting fresh fruit and vegetables together. Haruka gathers that Aki doesn’t do this as often as she should; she doesn’t know what to look for in the produce.

He finds out later that perhaps she’s just seeing something else entirely.

She holds up a proud looking capsicum when Haruka moves to stand close to her.

“Somehow, this reminds me of Matsuoka-kun,” she says, the capsicum held to Haruka’s eyes, its frame rigid and strong in Aki’s palm.

He can’t help but crack a smile, and when he does, Aki’s grows wider.

A few minutes later and he comes to her with broccoli. “Makoto,” he says simply.

She grins at him.

Next is baby corn. “Nagisa-kun,” she tells him.

“If we throw them in a pot of water do you think they'll swim a relay?”

Aki ducks her head, laughing, and for a moment in time, Haruka can only watch. The grocery store seems to shrink to the sound.

~

“You know,” Aki starts, looking up at Haruka, her hands tucked under her scarf. “Tachibana-kun has really great teeth.”

Haruka hums in assent.

“So it’s a little surprising how many orthodontist appointments he has.”

He nods gravely, switches from peeking at her from the side to turn his head to her. “That’s because his teeth are fake.”

Aki’s eyes widen. “Wait... Tachibana-kun has dentu—“

Something must give him away because next thing he knows, Aki’s hand steals out from under her scarf to smack him on the shoulder. “Nanase-kun, I believed you!”

“Sorry.” He schools his expression now. “It’s because he’s in love with his orthodontist.”

“Ha-ha,” Aki deadpans.

But Haruka makes sure the impassive line of his mouth doesn’t budge. He watches Aki start to crack the longer he regards her.

“You’re not—no, but what about... _Matsuoka-kun?_ ”

He remembers suddenly, the way she’d chided them so earnestly for calling Rin _Rinrin_. He has to turn his head to hide his quiet laughter, but his shoulders start to shake and it’s hopeless; Aki gasps, her hand steals out once again.

“Ha _ru_!”

He hears the sound of her sucking in her breath just as he feels the air freeze in his own chest, he whips back around to face her. Her eyes are wide, fingers flying to her mouth.

“Oh,” is all she says, shy suddenly.

But Haruka doesn’t want to hear her call him Nanase-kun again. His feelings on his first name aside, it is still something granted to the people close to him. This, he knows.

“It’s okay,” he breathes.

He starts to walk again, glancing over his shoulder at her when he’s one step ahead, maybe smiling. “Aki.”

~

Today, they sit in the food court of a department store, having just been to a bakery that Haruka had caught Aki sparing second, third glances at. He’s across from her, a small table between them. She’s got a braid in her hair today, similar to when she was a kid, except now Haruka can see her ears because it’s pulled back by a pin with a tiny flower on it. He can’t help but look at the pin every time she turns her head. But he can’t see it at the moment, watching as she folds and unfolds the paper bag she’d gotten her anpan in. She smooths out the creases and then, as if realising Haruka is watching, her fingers still.

“Haru?”

He meets her eyes to show she has his attention. When she still doesn’t continue, he obliges her a nod of his head.

“This is kind of out of left field but I’ve been wondering…why’d you get back into swimming? After middle school I mean.”

For as unexpected as the question is, Haruka answers immediately. “I wanted to swim with my friends again.” And he remembers the guilt that had struck him at the sight of Nagisa, with his round eyes and his missing laid bare; Makoto and his ever tentative hope; Rin with his misplaced heart, defeat in the face of a win. Later, Rei trying to string together the pieces of them all, always improving, even when he thought he wasn’t.

Aki is watching him.

He traces over the patterns on their table.

When Aki speaks, her voice is reflective, quiet in the way things tucked into memories often are. “I can understand a reason like that. I’m glad it’s what made you reconsider.”

At that, Haruka pauses, looking up.

When Aki continues, it is with a smile. “Watching you swim always inspired me and—”

The pause is long enough for Haruka to hear the quiet. He slides the paper bag to himself, folds it backwards from the creases Aki has already made.

He hears her breathe out something halfway between a laugh and a sigh. It makes him lay his hands flat on the paper.

“I always thought you were very kind.”

He doesn’t know what the correlation is, exactly, but the words or the way she says them sets something trembling inside of him.

~

The downpour is bordering on torrential the day Haruka leaves his wallet at Makoto’s apartment.

“We can go back for it,” Aki insists. “It’s close after all.”

She knows by now that Haruka will take words at face value, heedless of social norms. So he trusts that she means it.

He opens his umbrella, stark white against the grey cast of the rain, and pulls it upright. He looks to Aki then, to find her staring at the umbrella. She shakes herself out of her reverie, eyes clearing, and then ducks forward to join Haruka. Together, they step out from under the guard of a shopfront awning and into the rain’s haze.

They’re silent as they walk. Haruka sets his sights forward, on the way the water kicks up from the ground like clouds of chalk outside the perimeter of their cover.

“It’s pouring,” Aki sighs. And Haruka does not respond but for angling the tilt of his umbrella further towards her. It’s a pointless gesture, because she presses a little closer to him right after, so on every odd step or so they brush against one another. Haruka can smell the clean scent of her shampoo mix with the dust of the rain.

~

He unlocks Makoto’s door to find Sousuke.

“Aren't you meant to be with Aki or something?” Sousuke says, without looking up from his laptop.

Haruka grabs for his wallet. “What are you doing here?”

“Group assignment with Makoto.”

But judging by the fact that Sousuke's books are all shut and the screen in front of him currently depicts Rin, his mouth moving without words, Haruka gets the feeling Sousuke’s being here has something more to do with exploiting the kotatsu he’s currently seated at.

“Where’s Makoto?”

“Snack run.”

“Does he have an umbrella?”

Sousuke grunts in the affirmative. At that, Haruka has to sigh; when did he learn to read Sousuke’s grunts?

Sousuke looks at him then, smirking. “You were doing so well but then you left her outside?”

Haruka narrows his eyes. “She’s waiting on the ground floor, inside. How’d you even know?”

“Exclusive sources.” And then he chuckles. “Rin says good luck.”

Haruka lowers himself to the power point and—

“But you’re not getting any luck from me. You gotta stop being so smooth, Nanase. You’re losing me all my money.”

—in one swift movement, he pulls the kotatsu’s plug out the socket.

~

“You know,” Makoto starts. And before he can finish, Rin’s voice rushes from Haruka’s laptop speakers.

“You’re pretty much dating her, Haru.”

“You really couldn’t wait, could you?” Makoto directs back at the screen, one eyebrow raised.

“You would’ve broken it to him easy, which is harder.“ Rin’s fist comes down on his desk like a makeshift gavel. “Haru, You need to tell her you like her.”

~

He replays the words by the glow of a vending machine, Aki beside him.

She hands him a bottle of iced tea, her fingers brushing his in the process.

There’s something that feels secretive about sharing this ring of light when beyond it, night has run through the sky like ink. Tucked in the glow, Haruka takes the bottle and feels the contact warm him instantly, as if to compensate for the space put back between Aki’s and his hands.

Peeking at her from the side, he notices her hair is shorter — cropped enough for him to see the line of her neck to her shoulder. It’s a graceful curve, leading to arms he knows to be stronger with every training session, and it makes him itch for pen and paper.

When she shifts, the light plays in lines over her skin, and Haruka can’t look away. It’s like the fluid way the world slows when he watches ripples kiss the surface of water.

He wants to say it then.

Instead, he blurts, “you got your hair cut.”

Aki looks surprised when she turns to him, before breaking out into a smile. “I did! Just yesterday, actually.”

“I like it,” Haruka says.

She nods then, her cheeks a little pink. “Thank you, I do too.”

The feelings tangle in Haruka’s chest at the sight of her then and—

“I like you,” he says, the words falling from him as if he’s just been squeezed.

Aki is silent then.

The air freezes with her. Haruka’s ears are on fire. He taps at the lid of his bottle, and waits.

“W-what?”

Is he panicking? He can’t tell. There’s a swooping sensation in his gut and he’s really just hoping this exchange will hurry up and end; his eyes are darting to anywhere that’s not Aki’s eyes when he—

“Oh. They missed a bit of your hair, it’s longer than the rest.”

“ _What?_ ”

He reaches out to catch the strand, adjusting the space between his fingers according to the difference in length to show her.

“See?” When did he get so _close?_

Aki looks entirely bewildered.

“It’s only noticeable if you’re paying attention.” He wishes more than ever for a pool to hide in.

“ _Haru._ ”

He breathes. “I like you.”

Her eyes widen, and then she shifts, places her iced tea on top of the machine. It sets Haruka on edge; he needs to see what expression she’s making.

“Is it okay if...” She trails off and before Haruka can ask _what?_  she's reaching out, stopping at a point where she's not quite touching him, hand outstretched in the distance between them.

He looks at her fingers and then back up. She’s cocked her head slightly; the question in her eyes, her upturned brows. Haruka nods his head: _no, he doesn’t mind._

And then she moves closer still and, softly, her palm meets his jaw; her fingertips at the height of his cheekbone.

Haruka sucks in his breath, as if any movement might disturb her touch.

She’s smiling. Her hair brushed red by the light is something that strikes him as vaguely familiar.

“Me too,” she says. And then she’s not so much smiling as she is beaming.

Oh.

She leans in and up, to bump her mouth against his.

_Oh._

He is struck with the thought that he can’t decide if she is the sunshine or the flower.

When she rocks back down from the tips of her toes, he’s already bending to meet her again.

With her forehead to his, she smiles. And it’s like the comfort of return mixed with the uncertainty of departure. His head feels like a cotton field when he kisses her.

Inexplicably, Haruka thinks of her lightness when she swims. He moves with her. And this time, he knows so much more than her name.


End file.
